Newspaper Page Text
Tbe Simultaneous Thougfit.
hncies!” she almost shrieked.
Setting altered occurred entire in life.” mv sight once
my I have claim . upon
here, now. no
confidence,” he remonstrated, tell
ut, my dear friend, I must
body. I’ve never told a human
■ though I have described it to
If a hundred thousand times. Per
I shall be absolved from my long
ice if I do but confide the secret to
jne else.” wretched
warn you that I am a
ssor.” interrupt ^ „
ou must not me.
promise.” I tell „ it you just
»ry well, listen. and hear it
ee it with my eyes ” Mootla
Eny P ears at this moment,
“I am a mere child. It is a
["summer somewhere,—for day, and I am in _ I a car
r’s shop, never
the name of the place,—hunting the shav
i for toy houses among
In the center of the room there
ro workmen, quite near each oth
’hev are intimate friends. One is
a broadax. He is trimming down
of timber, while the other makes
holes in an end of the same
log. The younger man, who
i with the mallet and chisel, is
and much exhausted. Laying his
his tools, he slowly raises
bove his head as he drawls out:
fou handle that ax so well,
e.’ in
es?’ murmurs the axman, a
;ely interrogative tone, as the
steel cleaves the sides of the
beam. Now he the stops cold, chopping
re vacantly at work gray vig
•» now he resumes more
■y. It keen,’ the
seems so younger
Ind life’s sure,’ the elder adds,
such a bore, I wish you’d
fciy lor head-’ fellow; he’s taken at his
I In flash of light and a new crash
everlasting period to the dia
lull I see that ax’s blade buried in
of the young apprentice, while
Indie still quivers in the elder
man’s ly grasp.
God! the look of horror on that
Krer’s face! It fades away, and
pan falls in a swoon upon the
hear the rush of feet. Blanched
[gather round in awful silence.
| not seen. They do not Why suspect don’t
tl [ the terrible scene.
[body [ow hideous speak? is silence!
[see [he bleeding only one object in but that the room,
corpse, man
has done the murder. I, alone,
[ heard their conversation. I, alone,
how the young man begged for
It. I crawl over to the prostrate
[>er I of wood. down and I understand kiss his cold the
stoop I
ily ead. obliged forgive friend. him, They for I tell know
a me
he also is dead. Strong men
s to tear me from him, but I beg
ty. They deny ’ ’ me this. I scream:
5 my father. ’
this true?” exclaimed Walter,
r-stricken at the realism of the
Irue,” 11 answered Mootla, solemnly;
lixt swear to you that man. acted
moral intent. I understand
psychology [the correlation, of that the crime reciprocity now. of It
thought taidds. simultaneously We present in
are told of danger in
unctions of the stars, of human ills
track the wake of an eclipse—■
t are they all, compared to the im-
3 that makes an innocent man a
lerer?”
lere was all a long horrible pause,
t was so that I believe
iverage death-rate of the village
sased,” Mootla resumed, hearing
r her own thoughts. “There were
uicides soon after, and a boy-lov
in. ngled his sweetheart”—“0?* a
.oglish Farmers in America.
Burt, a member of the British
tment, spent much of last sum
n this country, and in an interest
writes: On the prairies of Illi
in the neighborhood of Kings
! anada, I met several people who
ormerly north laborers in England and
part of Ireland, who are
he owners of the farms they till,
seem to be doing well. I spent a
ays in Illinois with two brothers
vent from the north of England
thirty years ago. They took
with them but stout hearts and
of ready, willing hands. They
now farms of their own, in one
one hundred acres and in the
of eighty acres. They have 1
ed good houses, stables,’ barns,
the usual outbuildings connected
xeir a well-equipped homesteads farm. orchards Surround- in
are
land they grow many kinds of fruit,
r is well cultivated, and well
ted with fine animals. Neai-ly ev
iing they require is produced by
selves; in short, they are inde
ent as far as anybody on earth can
dependent. They still work hard,
'York for themselves, and were
ig the happiest people I met in my
There was a quiet dignity, a
tossession, an absence of haste and
■y in the life of these sturdy farm
rhich afforded a pleasant contrast
ueh that I saw in other parts of
riea.
It ould Take Chloroform.
occasion of the presentation
• service to Mr. Joseph Knight,
>i. ou dramatic critic, which took
Mr. recently in that city, the chair
Toole, told, among other
with much pathos; how a few
ago a friend of his had gone into
tar-shop to be shaved. Said he,
• gravest manner, to the barberi
r e yon got that razor you shaved
vith yesterday?” “Oh, yes, sir,”
the barber, with much exuberance
leiight ted at the favorable apprecia¬
tender interest evinced in his
lment, iog it down. rubbing “Here his hands it is, sir.” and
well," said the visitor, dryly,
little hesitation, “then—yes—
-I’ll take chloroform, please.”
—- >m i m
ado Mormons reject the teach*
Brigham Young.
OTHER PEOPLE’S LETTERS.
How a Young Man Is Amassing a
Fortune by Inditing Notes.
“She certainly writes a beautiful
hand,” remarked one young gentleman
lightly, and after dainty examining rose-scented the pink-color¬ sheet
ed of
note-paper which his friend had just
handed him. The recipient of the let¬
ter was one of those jolly good fellows
who receive a goodly number of mis¬
sives from the fair sex, and the note
was only a formal declination of an in¬
vitation, so there was no indelicacy in
showing “Oh, it it’s hand—very
yes, a nice
pretty dressed, writing,” “but it’s said fact the that party I’ve ad¬
a re¬
ceived notes from fifteen or twenty dif¬
ferent women in the last six months,
all addressed and written in precisely
the same hand. The truth of it is that
there is a man in this city making a
fortune writing other people’s letters.”
“The deuce you say! Who can it
be?”
“A young man named Markeson,
who has headquarters on Walnut
street.”
To the reporter who heard the con¬
versation enough was learned to give
him an idea. He at once determined
to call upon him and learn the particu¬
lars of his strange calling. Mr. M.
was found in rather a dingy little shop
on Walnut street, the entrance to which
was contalnin ining partly display barred copies by bulletin-boards of flash litera
ture, while le the the show show window window was was pack¬ nack
ed with dime novels and light reading.
The frizzly-headed youth who stood
behind the counter when the reporter
inquired for Mr. Markeson pointed
toward who a gentleman busily in the rear of desk the
store was engaged at a
with notes piled up on every side.
“What can I do for you?” he asked
politely, don’t but still with the air of a man
who want to be bothered.
“I want you to write me a note.”
“Have you a copy?” he asked.
“No, but I will dictate to you.”
“All right, but proceed quickly, for I
have lots of business on hand. What
do you want, a business hand?”
“Yes, a business hand will do.”
“On commercial note?”
“Yes.”
“Well, go ahead.”
In a very few minutes the letter was
written, addressed to a fictitious person,
and sealed. It was written in a beauti¬
ful business hand, every letter being
almost perfectly formed.
“How much?” asked the reporter.
The “Twenty-five cents, please?” and letter
amount was paid, the
writer was asked when he would be at
liberty for a few moments^ Half an
hour later was appointed, and the
News Journalist returned.
“Now I wish you would tell me how
you became a letter-writer, and how
you worked up such a business as you
seem to have.”
“Oh, that is I very easy to explain.
Six years ago was a common card
writer, and went to county fairs and
exhibitions writing cards. For a while
1 wrote cards’ on the streets in Cincin¬
nati, and a great many people them. employ¬ It
ed me to write letters for
struck me that it would be a good idea
to work up a trade of that kind, and I
got a little ahead financially and little bought
out this stand. It began a slow
at first, but people is began to that find I me
out, and there not a day do
not write a number of letters. Some¬
times I have more than I can attend to,
as you saw to-day.” .
“How did you manage to work it
up?” “Women—that tells the One
or two women get a letter written, and
then they tell others about of the it. city Nearly
all the illiterate women em¬
ploy me to write their notes, and they
are the best-paying class, and then
there are numbers of educated women.
Some of them write but really for nice, legible
hands themselves, somo reason
or other they prefer notes written in
some other hand. Poor servant-girls with
have notes written and want them
all the flourishes that can be put into
writing by a master. A great many
have me draw a bird or deer’s head to
make the letter look attractive and
pretty. Sometimes they come and tell
what they want themselves, but not
frequently. I have written some of
the most sickening stuff you ever heard
of for love-sick girls, and have been
put in charge of innumerable secrets.
I have no regular charge, the lowest
price being a quarter and from that on
up to "louder $1. The more ignorant she a woman the let¬
the sounding brighter colored wants she wants
ter and the
the paper. Look here, for instance
[showing a brilliant red-tinted sheet of
paper with gold-embossed edge and a
stamped monogram at the top], that
was written for a colored woman, who
is a cook at a 10-cent restaurant, and
goes to a dusky lover. 1 charged had her
only a quarter. A woman who
more money to throw away I would
have charged $1.”
"To whom are letters generally writ¬
ten?”
“Men of all classes. Actors come
in for the great share. During the
week Fanny Davenport showed here I
wrote thirty letters to one of the actors
in ‘Fedora’ for different women, pro¬
fessing all sorts of admiration. A great
many are written to gamblers and fast
young men. A party who recently
figured in a News Journal sensation re¬
ceived a good many notes written by
me.”
“Do you write many letters for men?”
“Not nearly so many as for women.
The men are generally those who can’t
write themselves or who want anony¬
mous or threatening letters written so
that they can not be detected by their
chirography. I have had an inkling of
curious ana startling facts that would
create a sensation if known, but never
ask questions, and consider everything
as strictly confidential. I would, per¬
haps, make an interesting and valuable
witness in many divorce cases if t’other
party only knew about ma”
“Is the business profitable?” queried
the reporter.
“Well, I will give you the figures. I
began a little over five years ago with
a few hundred dollars. I now have
property which I can convert into cash
on three days’ notice, and have lived
in good style, so you can judge for
yourself. But monopoly don’t you publish and it that,
for I have a now, may
start On competition.” the desk pile of notes
were a
waiting to be Cincinnati copied, News so the Journal reporter
withdrew.—
Rain.
Various theories have been advanced
to account for the formation of rain
drops, planation but the most satisfactory ex¬
is that proposed by Professor
Osborne Reynolds. The minute parti¬
cles of which clouds are composed are
moving the downward in consequence of
attraction of gravity; but, by rea
son of the resistance which the air of¬
fers to their descent, they are only mov¬
ing very slowly. Since, however, the
resistance offered to the passage of
large tion drops is much smaller iu propor¬
to their weight than that offered
to small drops, it follows that the larg ©
smaller drops will descend faster than th o
ones, and will overtake them,
coming in the into collision with any which
are direct line of their descent
When two drops collide they will
unite to form a larger drop, which
will descend with increased velocity,
sweeping and thus up increasing smaller drops in its path,
in size until it
emerges from the cloud. Since many
clouds are several miles in thickness, it
is easy to see that a particle descending
from the upper part of the cloud may
become a drop of considerable size be¬
fore it emerges from the cloud. In
their passage from the cloud to the
earth the larger raindrops will overtake
the small ones in a precisely similar
way. At the same time the size of the
drops may be slightly increased by the
condensation of water from the air
through be slightly which diminished they are falling, or
may evaporation from the by partial of
surface the
drops.
A f allin g raindrop descends with a
velocity which increases until the ac¬
celeration is balanced by the resistance
of the air, after which the drop de¬
scends with uniform velocity. It is, of
course, well known that large clouds
may exist without any rain falling
from them. In some cases rain is act¬
ually formed, but evaporates and is
again converted into vapor before it
can reach the ground; in many cases
the non-formation of rain is possibly
due to the fact that under certain un¬
known atmospheric or other conditions
the particles forming the clouds do not
unite when they collide. As an agent
of geological importance. change It rain plays is of large the
greatest the disintegration rocks a
part in of and
the formation of soils, washes the
smaller particles into streams and riv
t s, and is in fact one of the important
of the various denuding agents. In¬
deed, since rain is the ultimate source
of all our brooks, rivers, etc., it may
be said to bo the principal agent of
geological change on the earth’s sur
face. The amount of the rainfall
varies very considerable in different
parts of the same country, depending
on geographical of the surface position, of the the ground, confor¬
mation
the proximity of largo lakes and the
sea, etc. The heaviest annual fall of
rain occurs in the zone of calms over
the equatorial Pacific Oceans region of the Atlantic
and and on the west
coastgi of the British Jsles, India, Nor¬
way, North and South America and
New Zealand. In all these latter dis¬
tricts the west wind blows over a large
tract of ocean and becomes which heavily it
charged when with forced moisture, upward by the de¬
posits tion of the mountains the ac¬
on coasts.
The driest districts in the world are
desert regions of Africa and Asia,
The amount of rain which falls in sin¬
gle showfers is sometimes enormous,
especially in the ti’opics. In the Brit¬
ish Isles one of the heaviest falls on
record is a fall of 5.36 inches in twen¬
ty four hours, in Monmouthshire, July
14, 1875. On October 25, 1836, at Gi¬
braltar, there was a fall of 30.11 inches.
— Cassell's Concise Cyclopedia.
The Care of the Eyes.
“There is a great difference In the
prices optician of eye-glasses said. “You and spectacles,”
of an eye-glasses for 15 can while buy a pair
that looks exactly like cents, them will a pair
cost
you $2. The difference between them
is that by using one pair a man is very
liable to ruin his sight, while the other
will materially aid it.”
“What makes the difference in val
ne?"
“The quality of the glass and the
amount of work used in polishing them.
The cheap ones are generally made of
very common perfect. glass, Sometimes and are by no
means there are
air-bubbles in them, and sometimes
there are wavy lines. You have looked
through window-glass that distorted just
everything, haven’t you? Well,
imagine improve taking sight such kind Persons of glass to
your with. are
not half bareful enough of their eyes,
and the sight of thousands of persons
has been injured by using bad and un
suitable glasses. Poor quality of
glasses are injurious enough, but when
a person looks through glasses that are
both poor in quality and in no way fit
ted to improve the sight, he runs a ter
rible risk ”
“Can not one tell if the glasses help c
“It finis depends on circumstances. If a
man and tries that pair he is of getting far-si|hted far-sighted gfasses
on a
and they make him see better at that
time, he is apt to old, buy and them. They strainhis may,
however, be too thus
sight; or they may be too young for
him, and he does not receive the benefit
that he should. By going to a first
rate optician his sight would xrvs be tried in
a d
.<
sstissAs? rzfs
glasses lor and a looking quarter, just
them on nt a newspaper.
Lots of persons eyes are not of tho
same strength, and ought to have
glasses of different strength in the samo
frame. If a man with eyes of this
character gets a ready-made pair ol
spectacles ne is going to suffer.— Phila¬
delphia North American .
A saddler at Greensburg, It is soft-shelled Pa., has and a
curious egg.
does not resemble an egg, with the ex
ception of its shell. It is formed of
three parts. One resembles very much
the shape of a bead, and eyes and
mouth are perceptible joins it the in body, it. A which little is
short neck to
of an oval shape. To the body there
is a tail, resembling very much the inches tail
of a dog. It measures over five
and is a very queer shape indeed.
legs to order.
Interesting lte ms About the Army at
Crippled Soldiers.
“We have the names of about eight¬
een thousand veterans who have ap¬
plied who for repairs,” said Mr. Ramsey,
lias charge of the artificial limb
office, department to Washington of the surgeon Star general’s
a reporter.
“You know we fit them out with new
sets of legs, arms, or other apparatus
every live years. It is now getting to¬
ward the close one of those periods,
and we have repaired 14,000 veterans.”
"Aren't the one-legged men# dying
off?” asked the reporter.
“Now that’s an interesting question,
those i guess whose they are. I presume many of
names we have have since
died, but I can’t tell certainly. Now,
as I’ve said, every live years we recon¬
struct the maimed veterans of the
army, but they have their choice to
Lake the repairs or the money. The
allowance for a leg is $75, for anything
less than a leg is $50. From one period
to another many old veterans drop out.
Some of them make one or two appli¬
cations, and then we never hear from
them again. Naturally, we conclude
when they don’t send ior their money
or legs they must be dead and have no
more use for them, But we don’t
limit ourselves to men who have actual¬
ly lost their limbs. A man who has
simply lost the use of his limbs is en¬
titled to a wooden leg or arm, as the
case may be, though he can’t wear them.
So yon see we can’t keep a record of all
the aren’t one-legged men, but I guess there
as many as there used to be.
Yet there arclots of them, and many
who hayejrt any legs at all, and some
witbUeither legs nor arms. Then there
are many who have not lost their limbs
but who have no power to move. There
is one man who gets two arms and two
legs allowance, who cannot move any
part of his body except the little finger
on his left hand, which he can bend
the least little bit. There is another, a
New England soldier, whoso arms and
legs are Not dead, long and who is blind in both
eyes. ago a man came in
here with no arms and sat down at
one of the desks and wrote with his
teeth. It was not particularly fine
writing, but you could read it. I know
of another man—he was in the sharp¬
shooter’s service—who can’t be stood
on his feet because he is bent in the
back so that his head would strike the
floor first. Think how many years
these men have suffered, and many of
them hardly are still left living! of Why, them there’s
hold together. enough some of to
“But you asked if they were dying
off. Now, here’s a roll we are just
completing,” and he laid several im¬
mense “You tally-sheets out on his desk.
can see how they run. This is
the fourth period, and here’s a man
who has gotten four legs—quite a num¬
ber for one man if he used them all at
once, gotten foSf ^.nd legs here’s and another four who No, has
arms.
we don’t furnish heads, but we supply
parts of heads, jaws, and sections of
skulls, and eyes. Now, here’s a man
who got one leg in the first period, and
has never gotten any since; he is prob¬
ably dead- But here is another who
came and in fof'repairs heard just from after again the until war
was never
now, when he comes up again. He
didn’t wear out very fast. Some men
wear well, and don’t bother about get¬
ting repaired so often. Here’s another
man,” he added, pointing to another
name on the list, “here's a man who
comesrup now for the fust time, hav¬
ing done It without this his limb all these all
years. runs way, you see,
the way through. Those men who have
whatever not applied it is for they their fourth conclude leg, or
want, we
must be dead. Some, I presume, will
live to get five or six legs, or as many
arms.” *
Stories of Victor Emmanuel.
The Italian papers are full of anec¬
dotes just now concerning Victor Em¬
manuel, whose not too artistically inaugurated suc¬
cessful tomb has just been
in the Pantheon. Among these here
Is one that is curious. walking The King incognito when
quite through young was Turin with his
the streets of
brother, the Duke of Genoa. accosted They
met a , gipsy woman, tell who their fortune,
Hj em and be £p ed to
assented, much amused. After
looking , at Prince Ferdinands hand,
the *?ag said he would die young; then,
turning to Victor, she said, “You will
dl ® in Romo Victor m the Quinnal Palace,
rrmce apparently absurd laughed prophecy, heartily but at this did
not forget it and himse f related the
ln 1 f 52 tho Duk o^ 0nza dl
S. Marti)no. .In the year 1870, 1 when u
sent the Duke to Rome with his let
to Pius IX., he said significantly:
“You remember that you go to Lome
P^Pare for me the chamber in which
} “ ust <*»•’’ H f e ia pother.
ly a fter tho King s the marriage of he the met Roy- a
P?* 9a nt “P 0 ? steps
al Palace , at lunn. She wus bringing
a ba * ket of e f>S 8 f « r lhe r °y al ki :1 ! e “’
and because the King alone wore a plain took
bunt } n S dress and was she
blm a 8e r vaat - Do
*ing to me ’’she , , begged: ‘Tshomdso
j^ he ke sa tc l J d f c Eh | ! , b ah , j„ ,,, a .. l 1 v*.
-
iaugbing , into . his . . face f ‘‘The Princess
wcuid not have chosen such an ugly
man - p ’
ssssa . .“j , r i “.r , .r , . ,
-in?*, if,
,i„ |o._i p l 6 » w. habits, and
f u f bo , hom MI do»t World.
Salvador Mendonca, Brazilian Con
sul-General says: The reason Rio eof
fee is not quoted high in this markei is
that only the lower grades of Brazilian
coffee are called Rio coffee. The best
coffee from Rio de Janeiro is called
“Java,” “Mocha.” etc. You gee the
planters send their coffee to Rio and
then it is all mixed together, the good
and the bad, in order to get an average
price. When it gets here it is ta
ken to large coffee houses, where tho
work done in Rio is undone, the coffee
being sorted out into differeut grades
and various names given it. The low
est grade is called Kio. As a matter of
fact some of the best coffee we get comes
from Brazil.
Washing Wool on the Sheep.
Washing wool on the sheep is a gen¬
eral practice. It is proposed to reform
the practice, it being charged as injurious wholly
useless, and in a largo degree
to the sheep and the washers. Thou¬
sands of years ago, when each family
grew and wove its own clothes, there
were sound reasons for washing. But no A
reasons can be shown now.
suppositious reason is the idea of
making all clips alike in condition and
value, because no farmer will sell his
wool unless ho can got the samo price
as his neighbor. But every obs ving
wool-grower knows there is not uni¬
formity in the condition and value of
fleece-washed wools. Some run eight
or ten days between washing six and weeks. shear¬
ing, and others run five or
Some wash out as little dirt as they
can, and somo make it a point to let
their sheep run until thero is as much
dirt and oil in the wool as before wash¬
ing. So there is as much difference in
the condition of washed fleece and per
The cent, result of shrinkage is where as the in umv*shod. buyer
that goes
from farm to farm and pays each grow¬
er the same price the same day, the
man who has a line light clip guts loss less
than its value to make up the on a
dirty clip, so that the buyer can make
an average price, and buy reefive of every Ins
grower ho calls on, and
commission of one cent per driven pound.
Most flocks have to be some
distance tired to the washing place, and and close be
come and heated, the
yarding increases both, and puts them
in bad condition for a bath. The wash¬
ing and slow process of evaporation of
the largo amount of water in the wool
produces a chill, mako reduces the vulnerable vitality of
the sheep and it more
to attacks of disease. The yelk product and oil
washed out of the wool is a of
food, and it requires as much of tiie el¬
ements of nutrition to produce a
pound of it as it does to produco a
pound of wool. The animal economy
is taxed to produce a now supply of be¬
food. fore shearing Washing at sheep the expense often gives more them
colds, from which they never recover.
The operation is one of d soomfort to
the men, and sometimes results in ser¬
ious injury to health. As they cannot
be washed until weather and water be¬
come measurably warm, until and must “oil
needs run afterward the
starts,” the season of shearing is lim¬
ited, and many floeks are obliged to
carry their fleeces into hot weather, re¬
sulting in loss of condition and stop¬
ping growth of wool.
We ought to abolish the practice , be¬
cause it will be a yearly saving of time, be
labor and expense; the sheep can
sheared early at convenience, and the
season of shearing market and for marketing unwashed
lengthened. The
wool is just as good as for washed, and
it will sell for just as much per head for
the same number of mouths’ May 30 growth. and 31,
1 sheared, last year,
and the next day I noticed my sheep
sought the shade to lie down. Thou¬
sands of sheep carried their fleeces dur¬
ing a month of hot weather, and then
the tender skin was exposed to the
scorching rays of the sun. All this dis¬
comfort and loss in growth of wool
could have-been Those avoided by give shearing their
unwashed. wiio can *
sheep shelter at May night with and benefit. during
storms can shear 1
Those whose pastures are distant can
shear as soon as liability to cold storms
is past, say from seldom May 15 their to 81, fleeces and
sheep should carry
far into June.—if. F. lioberts in Chica
ao Journal.
Habit Makes tbe Horse.
“ ’Member them two old bays I used
to drive?” said Joe Troy, a car-driver
on the Fifth and Sixth streets line, last
ivening. “A cousin o’ mine, a farmer,
out beyond Tacony there, bought ’em
off the comp’ny. I took an’ a holiday ole
about a week ago, and me my
’oman we went to Tacony to spend the
day at my cousin’s farm. I asked how
the team was gettin’ on. He said they
made him tirea; he had done all he knew
to git ’em to go, and when they He started
he couldn’t git ’em to stop. was
gettin’ sick of ’em, an’ thought he’d
sell ’em
“ ‘Let me have a I try,’ accustomed says I, cos,
you know, bein’ as was to
’em, I thinks I may be able to find out
what’s the matter with ’em.
“Well, he hitched ’em to a plow an’
I gets behind ’em an’ chirrups to ’em
like an’ talks to ’em, but they wouldn’t
move worth a cent. Well, I couldn’t
make it out when a like. thought My cousin’s kinder
strikes me all plump
little boy he’s got one of them bicycles,
so I says:
“ ‘Aleck, where’s little Joe’s bicycle?’
Little Joe’s the boy’s name. lie wur
named for me, you know.
“I goes in an gets the bell of the bi¬
cycle an’ fixes it on to the handle of the
plow. Then the I bell, takes shakes the strings the reins, again and
and rings
says: up!’
“ ‘Gee
“If you’d believe me, them two old
rascals pricks up their ears dirckly an’
without any more trouble than ask yer
puts their shoulders to the collar and
sets off. Then I pulls the bell again
and says:
“ ‘W’hoa!’
“And they stops as easy as if they
were back in the old car. Aleck says
I’m a genius. I don’t know what he
means by that, but I know he hain’t
had any more trouble with the old bays
since.’— Philadelphia Times.
An Honest Verdict.
A man had met a girl in alonely place
and forcibly kissed her. had She was terri
She bly indignant, and him arrested.
gave an account on the witness
stand of how he gazed at her intently,
around an< l then, her, suddenly imprinted throwing kiss his arms her
a upon
Bps. The prisoner made no defense,
an ^ the him jury was expected to promptly returned
convict of assault They
to the court-room. “The ju-ja-iury
w-w-wouid like to ask the young lady
two questions.’ the foreman said. The
judge consented, “D-d-did and she went the on j-j-jer- the
stand. you wear
tbat y° u ve g*fp£ ot 0D
“Yes, sir, was the demure reply*
“And w-w-was your ha-ha-hsir b-b
banged like that? ’ “Yes, sir.” “Then,
your honor, we acquit the p-p-prisoner
on the ground of emo-mo-tionsl in*
*a ally.’—San Franeisca rust.
THE ITALIAN DIVORCE BILL
May Marry on Trial.
The Divorce bill brought before Par¬
liament by the Italian Ministry seems
little short of a proposal to revolution¬
ize marriage. It provides that when a
man and wife have separated for a per¬
iod of three years—provided they have
no children,'or for five years, provided
they have children—the aggrieved This par¬
ty can obtain a divorce. is simp¬
ly and an abolition of permanent marriage, wife
only gives to either husband the or mar-i
a temporary interest in
riage relation.
Of course this bill is ostensibly de¬
band, signed to the afford relief to a wife has or been hus¬
as case may be, who
deserted. In practice, however, the
law would permit the voluntary sepa¬
ration and subsequent divorce of all
married people. If a man and wife
should grow tirod of one another with¬
in a month after marriage they would
only have to agree specified to live apart from and,
one another for a time,
in case the marriage should prove un¬
fruitful, they would have only three
years to wait in order to dissolve the
marriage bond and to seek more con¬
genial the suit partners. divorce The could party easily bringing claim
for
to have been deserted, and the defend¬
ant certainly would not deny this
claim. There will, therefore, be no
certainty in case the Divorce bill be¬
comes a law that any Italian marriage
will last over seven years at the fur¬
thest. Certainly the Italian Ministry
has left very far behind the Catholic
theory of the indissolubility of mar¬
riage. It is not creditable to the boldness
or
the honesty of the originators of the
Divorce bill that they have failed to
word it frankly and to call it a bill for
tho substitution of temporary marriage
in place of permanent marriage. It
should have provided that every Italian
marriage shall hold good only for a
term of years, say soven years in cases
where children are born and five years
in cases where there aro no children.
They would have then had the merit
of saying exactly what they mean. No
Italian man or woman would, in case
such trouble a law and were passed, of seeking be put to the di¬
expense a
vorce. At the end of five or seven years
every husband who was satisfied with
his wife would renew his lease of her,
and every wife who was dissatisfied
with her husband would refuse to bo
remarried to him and would seek a
more satisfactory husband. In caso
the husband declined to give up his
wife at the expiration of his lease sho
could proceed to dispossess him by could aid
of an order of the court, and
probably obtain damages from him
sufficient to enable her to buy a new
wedding outfit. In exceptional cases de¬
a husband who had secured a very
sirable wife might make it a part of
the first marriage contract that ho
should have the right to renew his
lease of her for a second period the of lease fivo
or soven years, and of course
would contain provisions requiring in good the
husband to keep the wife re¬
pair and to pay the annual insurance
premium on her life.
The divorce Question, which has so
long plagued the France, is evidently In¬ to
plague other Latin nations.
stead of drawing ingenious divorce bills
designed to conciliate those who aro
opposed to divoreo in any circum¬
stances and those who arc in favor of
unlimited well divorce take facilities, the bull legislators by tho
would do to
horns, as the Italian Ministry has done,
and to make marriage a leasehold priv¬
ilege. Temporary marriages are tho
easiest solution of the commend divorce problem, them¬
and if they do not
selves to narrow-minded persons who
still believe in Christianity, they will
certainly meet the warm atheists approval .—New of
the Communists and
York Times.
The Number Seven.
On the seventh day of the seventh
month a holy observance was ordained
to the children of lsraGl, who feasted
seven days and remained seven days in
tents—tho seventh year was directed to
be a Sabbath of rest for all toilers; and
at the end of seven times seven years
commenced tho grand jubilee—every
seventh year there was a grand release
from all debts, and bondsmen were set
free. From this might have originated
the custom of binding young men to
seven years' appreni ices hip, and of
transportation punishing incorrigible for twice offenders by
seven, seven or
threo'times seven years. Anciently a
child was not named before seven days,
not before being accounted fully to have life
that periodical day—the teeth
spring shed out on the seventh month, and
aro in the seventh year, when in¬
fancy is changed into childhood. At
thrice seven years tho faculties are do
veloped, manhood commences, and a
man becomes legally competent to per¬
form civil acts—at four times seven he
is in full possession of his strength—at
five times seven he is fit for the busi¬
ness of tho world—at six times seven
he becomes grave and wise, or never—
at seven times seven he is in apogee,
and from that time decays—at eight
times seven he is in his first climacteric
or year of danger, and ten times seven,
or three score years and ten, has by
the royal prophet been pronounced the
natural period of human life.
And, we would add, the most con¬
stant weather multiple cycle of is mythical that of seven, number. or
some this
It Wasn’t the Cat.
\ fi s h dealer down in SalineviUe,
Ohio, says that he received a box of
frozen fish from Cleveland during tho
recent brittle blizzard. that they They had were bo handled so hard
and to
with care to He keep sold them from old breaking
in pieces. one to an lady,
who took it home and put it in a bucket
0 f cold water to thaw out gradually.
During splashing the anti night flopping she heard around something in tho
jng kitchen. get Supposing the fish, she it was jumped the cat try- of
to Woke out
bed, seized the broom, and for
the scene. There was no cat visible»'
but the fish was making the water fly
Jn every direction, As near as could
be learned, these fish had lain out in
the cold two nights before being pack
in boxes, and had been out of the
water more than two weeks.